My Kingdom is as Great
by NickeltheRed
Summary: Sarah is not an ordinary girl who comes from an extremely ordinary world. She belongs to magic...but she won't belong to just anyone. {Jareth/Sarah Prompt Fic}.


**I own nothing.**

 **NOTE : Separate prompts and drabbles just for fun.**

* * *

Her head tips to the side. "Why me?"

He sighs. Sarah's soul at eighteen is no less curious than it was three summers ago.

"Because only Kings recognize Queens."

* * *

The worst part of Sarah telling the dwarf, " _...Every now and then in my life, for no reason at all, I need you. All of you_...," is Jareth isn't sure what that means for him. He can't fathom what else Sarah would need from him, if not her dreams? She is a fiery beacon dancing in the night, a new memory of hope and life given to those in the Labyrinth. And he knows this only sets him up to wait and wait for those answers, no matter how much it sears him.

* * *

He desires...

He just requires...

Well, just...

He leans forward to kiss her. It's a kiss that tells her more than his words could in this moment. They tumble back over the bed, his weight pressing on her, and his hand roams over her ribs and she arcs into his touch.

He worships in the temple that is her.

* * *

Sarah tilts back, nestling into his chest with her green eyes still trained on the stars above.

"So when's the comet gonna show?"

He chuckles against the curve of her temple. "Soon."

* * *

He stands aside, witnessing her ability to rule the Labyrinth very well, as he thought she would have from the start. He is thankful that she'd accepted him finally, yet she's wiser and firmer in her believes, matured, and she doesn't fall to pieces in the face of danger.

Tales of her victories start to spin and take shape throughout the land and her name makes the records, forever kept in the royal archives.

She befriends wild beasts twice her size, she tames dragon hatchlings, and conquers the Wicked Witch from the great forest, and masters the spiritual art of water manipulation.

The gardens bloom around them in the spring sunlight; he tugs her against his chest, whispering his pride into her ear as she laughs.

* * *

Sarah Williams is not an ordinary girl who comes from an extremely ordinary world. Fae blood is not a part of her physical being, but it does still call out to her. No one else really knows that she's a decedent of the Romani, and that she's one of the great-great-great granddaughters of the witches they could not burn at the stake centuries ago in the Scottish hills.

She belongs to magic, but she will not belong to just _anyone_. She's a prize dangled in front of many men and Jareth watches from afar while she defies them all.

But nay, she cannot be won simply. In time, perhaps he shall steal her away.

* * *

Hurt, Sarah shuts her door and breaks down into to tears. She's reached her limit and she can't help it.

 _"I'm sorry, Sarah, but I just don't know what do with you anymore!"_

She cries freely, sinking down before her vanity mirror, staring at her sadden reflection and she yearns silently for a sense of release.

At times, it's all about perspective: some wicked step-mothers are just unintentionally wicked. Karen Irene Williams, second wife of Robert is not a vile person at heart, but, her interactions with Sarah are a bit questionable. She really had no idea how raise a new daughter in the first place, especially one wasn't of her own blood and was already on the verge of adulthood when they had first met.

And while Karen finds raising a toddler boy is frankly easier than a teenage girl she just can't relate to, that's where tensions start to grow. When Karen can't figure out what Sarah needs from her, Karen clearly gets frustrated with Sarah and gets frustrated with herself too. It leads to her lash out at Sarah, thinking discipline and lectures are the safer choice versus just letting the issue go. But little does she realize, that in the end, her constant prying and critical comments are usually at the expense of Sarah's self-esteem.

Sarah takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, trying to calm herself though misery still clings to her. Whirling around, she nearly stumbles backwards to discover _him_ standing there, tall, firm, and soundless.

There is no fear bubbling between them now, there's no time to even register anger, or proper acknowledgment. As egoistical as he is, he won't kick her when she's already down and looking so frail. There's no fun in that. Sarah just dries her eyes with the corner of her sleeve and steps into him, tucking her head under his chin and folds her arms around his armor. He lets her do this and quietly, he strokes her hair back.

Because that's what he's there for. She needs him tonight in her moment of faultiness. She needs _him_ to be there to remind her that she has willpower, to remind her how strong she can be.

* * *

"She's nice," Sarah decides, watching the curtseying Fae lady disappear. "She'd be good for you."

He sighs. Here and now, she refuses to pick a fight with him?

"It was all supposed to be for you," he says, turning away. She bites her lip.

* * *

When Sarah moves out of the house to attend college and to look for a stable career, she leaves many things behind her—gives a lot of what was hers to Toby—except for the _books_. Her _books_ are carefully guarded and go with her wherever she does.

* * *

Young Commander Toby returns to the Labyrinthine gates with his army, sweaty and mud-stained fresh from battle.

With success, they've conquered the pesky giants in the north.

Goblins in the City welcome him with haste as Hoggle helps him carry his daggers and helmet back inside.

And in the heart of the Castle, he finds his sister sitting proudly on the throne.

He approaches her on bended knee, head lowered, pledging his service and greets her properly. And then he looks upon her face. It's gratified and smooth. Even the brightest Fae in the land have commented on her beauty for a girl so plain by birth. Her hair runs in raven streams down her front and the green of her gaze is vibrant and cool.

Jareth's horned pedant hangs heavily on her neck, but she wears it equally well. The Goblin King has been missing for years now as they had found out about roughly eleven months ago; no one knows what happened to him exactly, and it was a while ago, and no sure conclusion had ever surfaced since.

The point is, _Sarah_ _Williams_ was the single name that was scrawled on all his deeds and royal verdicts. She had lawfully inherited the Labyrinth.

"Rise, my brave Commander," Sarah offers, voice even and clear. "Brother."

Toby stands with a sunny obliged smile, a smile in which only a thirteen year old boy with a gifted purpose could flaunt.

Even though their eternal youth will be preserved much longer here, Sarah looks very different from when she required him to sail away. She used be much more reluctant, snapping out things like, _"This was his last move for revenge! To get back at me!"_ or _"It's like a bad Narnia rewrite!"_ She was once suspicious and rather wary of the whole situation. Before, Aboveground, she was twenty-eight and just trying to get by in life being a waitress/commercial actress who was a stage playwright on the side. Then, one day in springtime, they were both summoned and confronted by the Fae High Courts, and the titles were granted. To boot, her first task was to guard the Labyrinth, raise troops, and save the entire Kingdom from the Second Giant Invasion.

(Toby stayed for her benefit, by choice, to support her and to have some fun too. Plus his sister was more of a friend and more of a parent to him than Robert and Karen ever were.)

So Toby thinks it is funny how these things work out. He returns to the Castle Beyond today in search of his apprehensive sister...the sister who constantly fretted about the changes, demands, questions, maps, and getting everyone in order. And, he actually returns to find a poised Goblin Queen in her place.

* * *

She walks back into the old Throne Room with the goblins all skipping on her heels.

Reclining there, Jareth lifts his head and blinks in amazement. Her eyes are steely and her words are definite.

"I'm ready now. Give me my crown."

He stands to greet her and really doesn't waste any time asking stupid questions. He just feels his heavy heart rise up on the wings of triumph.

"Welcome home, My Queen."

* * *

At first, it was an honest shock to his system when Sarah Williams makes another wish, a similar wish, calling upon his goblins. Since their last encounter, Jareth has sulked, brooded, and schemed revenge for months on end, until he was able to wake up one day ready to move on, thinking that was it; that she's gone, out his reach, it's pointless.

Though now it's real, and it's happening again—and—and it's _her_. Granted she's five years older than before, his magic is still thrumming in his veins with both excitement and an unexpected curiosity.

He's standing inside a dimmed college dorm room, somewhat hesitantly, with his hands on his hips as he looks down at a boy who's around Sarah's age. In turn, the poor fellow stares up at him in return, on his hand and knees, pushed down in a scuffle it seems. He can't even blink. His mouth hangs open in surprise.

Sarah's there too naturally, stiff as a statue feet behind the boy. Clear anger and revulsion shines within her eyes.

(Jareth vaguely notices that her little black dress is torn at the strap. They lock eyes.)

"Him," she starts firmly and firstly, "you can keep."

"He's not a child," Jareths replies, almost in disappointment. "Too old to turn into a goblin."

"Consider him a gift, then, personally from me to you."

"Sarah," The Kings cautions her wisely, "haven't you learned your lesson already? You are upset. How will you feel about this in the morning?"

She ignores that fact. She also ignores the college boy's confusion and stammering questions while she justifies her decision, "I'd feel far better knowing the guy who just tried to force himself on me against my will is nowhere near me anymore."

There's a sudden dangerous flash in the King's eyes. "Hm." Slowly and smoothly, he bends over and heaves the boy up the throat, inspecting him more closely, accusing him. The boy now pleas for Sarah's help, for her forgiveness, huffing out pathetic little gasps, clawing at Jareth's glove in desperation. "Perhaps I could make room for him in the Oubliette. This one time."

"I appreciate it, Goblin King." Her tone is snappish and hard.

A thousand times Jareth has fantasied about their possible reunion, and he always wondered how it play out. All in all, he never once imagined something like this to happen though.

He can Sarah is _seething_ and feeling utterly violated, emotional, and all the above. Plus, she does seem overall _satisfied_ to see him no less. Satisfied enough to know that he'll still show himself if she beckons him and the goblins. This twinkle of hope and understanding patches up the remaining holes left in his previously-bruised ego. He actually grins back at Sarah a little, baring his pearly Seelie fangs at her. She begins to walk towards the door coolly; and Jareth even bows for her too, still clinging to his whimpering victim.

"Pleasure's all mine, my fair Lady."

And so, King Jareth and his new victim disappear in a whirl of faerie dust.

* * *

Toby fumes. He glares at this so-called 'old friend' of Sarah's, feeling an unwanted lurch in his stomach.

He's jealous of the keen attention the guy's getting from his sister. Where did he come from again? How did he meet Sarah? How long have those two even been friends? And why does he talk like that, like he's from King Author's time or something? Toby doesn't like watching them together, and he doesn't like this obvious change in their daily pattern. He eventually has the distinct urge to stomp up to his sister's side, tugging on her jacket. "Sa-r _ah_ ," he whines, deliberately breaking apart out the vowels in annoyance.

In unison, Sarah and her special friend look down at him, both wondering what he wants. "Yeah, Toby?"

"You promised you'd take _me_ to the bookstore, not talk to him all day long!" He crosses his arms stubbornly and he means it. "Pick. Me or him."

Briefly, the strange man seems surprised by his reaction, a bit concerned by it even.

Sarah snorts. "I have plenty of time for both of you, Toby. Don't worry."

Sneering, Toby insists, "Okay, but, I want _more_ time than he does. You're not _his_ sister, you're mine!"

"Toby, can't you share me for a little while?"

"Not with him."

"Your presence is sure in high demand these days, precious," the man muttered to her, making Sarah shrug. "Ironic. The baby brother is now my rival in competing for you."

* * *

She kisses him deeply, dragging her teeth across his skin and pulls on his collar, pushing him against the stone wall. "You're mine."

Love, awe, lust, want, need, and even _fear_ race across his mind as she molds herself into his form. "Alright." He smirks, yielding to her once more. "I'm yours."

* * *

"I wish the Goblin King was here, right now..."

Pause. Breath. Wind chimes.

"...Sarah?"

"Hey, Goblin King!" she beckons shortly, nearly stumbling to the floor in excitement. A confused Jareth is in the unfortunate position to try and catch her before she face-planted. Pulling on her, her arm found its way around his neck and she braced herself against him. "I didn't think you would actually show!"

"I always come when I'm summoned, Sarah," he murmurs in light suspicion. "Especially when you say your right words."

"Aww," she smiles, "I thought you hated me by now."

"There are still...many, many things I associate you with, Sarah. But hatred is honestly not one of them."

"That's nice." Simply patting his shoulder, she lets him go and turns away. "I'll probably forget about that in the morning, though. Just to let ya know."

"Sarah," he drawls, looking at her closely, "are you drunk?"

"Maybe just a little. It was girls' night out." She laughs, hiccups, then growls low in her throat when she struggles getting her shoes off. She slumps cross the sofa, ripping off the staps. "Agh! Whoever invented high heels must've hated womens' feet and wanted to make us suffer!"

"Why am I here, Sarah? Focus."

"I don't know. I can't remember. It maybe just slipped out."

" _Slipped?_ "

"Yeah, slipped. Look around. I actually don't have anything to give you."

"Perhaps, then, you should sleep on it," he assesses, looking toward the window. "Go back to your room, back to your textbooks and computer things. Forget about this meeting."

Silence. Hesitance. Glance.

Jaw set, he sees Sarah's already passed out cold now, her head bent over the cushions. "Sarah?" He scoffs. "Four years, and nothing else than a drunken call?"

He causally grabs the nearby quilt and throws it over her before disappearing.

* * *

Once upon an age, Jareth had courted a few selected myth-maidens at Titania's persistence.

Years later, he took wild goblins as pets and ruled his Labyrinth alone at his own persistence.

Eventually, overtime, Titania relents and allows him to marry the mortal maiden with the pretty green eyes.

* * *

Sarah's torn between two different suitors.

One, there's Jared, her first date, her first innocent kiss shared between a boy and a girl in the park, her first homecoming dance. They didn't last, but apparently he never really forgot about her. Then, there's Jason, who had found her at the pub three weeks after her breakup. They were never an _official_ couple out in public...but the physical act of _coupling_ behind closed doors was involved for a while.

And now months later, like some stupid clichéd theme in a romance comedy, she's stuck flitting back and forth between them indecisively.

Jared is handsome in the modern sense, with a nice style, jeans and a simple sweater. Light hair, doe brown eyes. He's wanting to be a novelist. He's thoughtful, poetic, and patient. He has more in common with her emotional speaking, and totally appreciates her creative streak. They got coffee every Sunday morning, discussing the arts or the importance of David Bowie's music lyrics. Jason though, is really on the other end of the spectrum. Dark hair, dark eyes, leather jacket, black motor bike with the whole devil-may-care persona. He ignites her passion, catering to her inner desire for adventures, plays pranks on her, building the sexual tension in a fun and easy way.

They would both be ideal partners, according to Sarah. But obviously, she does have a conscience. She knows she can't be that selfish...she must decide to keep one, and cut ties with the other. It's more fair that way.

The potential price or her dark knight? Arthur or Lancelot? Jared or Jason?

"Ugh." Sarah tosses her pillow aside. She hates being in Guinevere's position. "If only I could somehow have both in one guy."

"Well," a familiar cultured voice invades her personal space just then. She spins and Jareth's smiling like Cheshire Cat. "Might I cast in my vote?"

* * *

He's quite close to her...just a pace away, then a mere gap away, a breath away. His lips are nearly toughing hers.

Then Sarah snaps out of it and giggles softly, pulling back. "Nice try, Goblin King."

He frowns. She's always like this. Always so close, though never close enough.

* * *

At fifteen, everything about Sarah screams _spoiled_ _child_. Costumes, toys, storybooks, a head full of fantasies.

Though Karen marvels over Sarah at twenty. Her conduct, her beauty, her work ethic now screams _control_ , as if to say, _I run this house. I am Queen._

* * *

Sarah can hear the other girls sneering as she strolls by heading for her math class.

Everyone knows she's not single anymore, and Jareth coming to see her on campus wearing his mortal clothing is the hottest gossip between her peers.

They call her a _Lolita_ case, that she's a gold-digger, a college freshman by day and his private whore by night. They tease her about it. They call him a cradle-robber, a pervert who has to overcompensate for something, a man with some gross child-bride fetish.

Initially, Sarah feels awkward talking about it out loud, confirming he is in fact her boyfriend. (She is bothered by it, just a little.) It's only natural to get defensive, she thinks, especially when it comes to the one you love. She feels like she needs to stand up to those who stare at them sitting together a second _too_ long.

Her closest friends Aboveground think it's odd to, but at least they still try to smile and remain completely civil whenever he shows up to spend time with her.

Jareth in contrast, does not seem to mind. In reality, he couldn't care less what they think of him. He actually makes it easier for her to adjust to the new waves of ridicule. Because he knows who he is, and knows why she's with him, and that's good enough. Sarah even gains this suspicion that her bullies are envious of them. They only _wish_ that they could have what she does...since frankly speaking, the Fae in Jareth makes him noticeable. Magnetic. Charming. And he's totally enthralled by _her_. He doesn't bother looking at other woman who talk to him. He's a real man among boys pretending to be men. He's a pure gentleman in public and he looks after her, ready to protect her honor if necessary. He treats her like frickin' royalty.

And, really in the end of all things, why wouldn't he?

* * *

Sarah now would stay in the Labyrinth and live with her lord husband, as she is prepared to be bound to him and his Throne.

She feels his mouth trailing over her throat and she gets lost in the heat and the friction and the taste of peach wine. "I wish...I wish...I wish...," she breathes out, like a prayer to the ceiling.

Happily, his voice finds her ear. "What?"

"For everything."

* * *

Jareth and Sarah stare each other down after her laughter fades, noticing him looming there, and she's left holding hands with the dwarf stiffly.

Tonight, there's nothing but the darkness and the snow and the firelight around them.

But there's so much more unsaid hanging between them _(forget about the baby, it's not fair, I wonder what your basis of comparison is, as the world falls down, through dangers untold,_ _I ask for so little, YOU HAVE NO POWER OVER ME)_ and it's heavy and dramatic, and it hurts more than either of them is willing to admit.

And finally, Hoggle's narrow-mindedness clears and he recognizes that this...this thing runs a bit deeper than just a warning glance shared between friend and foe.


End file.
